


Make-Up, Dancing, and Dignitaries

by SmartassUndertheMountain



Series: Some Kings are Sweet [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Sentimental moments, Suggestive phrases, Sweet!Thorin, Wedding, Wedding Jitters, Younger-less-angry-Thranduil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:29:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2357876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmartassUndertheMountain/pseuds/SmartassUndertheMountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's finally your wedding day and you are excited to walk down the aisle and become Thorin's wife, but you're nervous about what that means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make-Up, Dancing, and Dignitaries

            You felt exhausted and energetic at the same time. _How is that even possible,_ you wondered, yawning again. You’d been up for hours while ladies maids swarmed around you, doing your hair and make up, making sure you were fed. You were still your robe so at least your body was comfortable while they tugged at your hair and thrust make up brushes in your eyes.

            “My, lady, Prince Thrain is here to see you,” a woman said behind you.

            “Of course, I’m coming!” You began to shoo away the flock beauticians but you were stopped by Thrain’s commanding voice.

            “Oh no, don’t move on my account. Today is your day after all,” he moved a chair into your line of vision - the woman behind you was very demanding that you not move while she fixed your hair. “I wanted to see how my soon-to-be-daughter-in-law is fairing? Still getting used to the swarms of people around you?” He smiled, knowing how uncomfortable you felt as the center of attention.

            “So many people want to talk to me now, or want my opinion on things that I know almost nothing about. And I’m supposed to greet important people by Thorin’s side. I nearly made a fool go myself in front of King Thranduil the other day,” you sighed. “Will I ever get better?”

            “Would you give us moment, ladies?” He politely shooed the primping team out of the room and leaned forward to take your hands in his. “You did not make a fool of yourself in front of Thranduil. Believe it or not, the elf finds you charming. You will get used to it, and when you do it will be second nature - like brushing your teeth,” his smile was warm and comforting. 

            “Thank you,” you returned his smile.

            “I suppose your father will have a similar talk with you, but right now I believe he is with Thorin,” he spoke calmly but you raised your eyebrows in worry and confusion. “Don’t worry, you know they get along well. Y/N, today I want you to enjoy yourself. Your father and I have been running you ragged trying to prepare you for today and all the days after, but now it is time to have fun. Don’t worry about saying the right thing to the right people or being polite and proper - there is no such thing at a royal dwarvish wedding reception.”

            “What?”

            Thrain laughed a hearty laugh. “Your father said that would be your reaction. Let the King and I worry about dignitaries, you enjoy your wedding,” Thrain stood to leave and you rose as well, walking with him to the door. As he stepped through the door he turned back to you. “You and Thorin make a wonderful couple, and I feel lucky that you are to be my daughter-in-law.”

            Without thinking you hugged the Crown Prince of Erebor. He seemed surprised but returned the hug, smiling at you so that his nose crinkled and the lines around his eyes were prominent. “Now go on, finish getting ready. I’ve got to make sure everything is ready for you,” Thrain walked away, whistling to himself.

 

            Two long agonizing hours later you were dressed and waiting for your father to arrive with your bouquet.

            “Y/N, you look beautiful,” you turned from the mirror to see your father, dressed in his best, looking every bit the father-of-the-bride. You ran into his arms and buried your face in his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his soap and whatever it was that made him smell like him.

            “Am I ready for this?” You asked after several moments of just being in his arms.

            “What do you mean?”

            “Am I ready to be his wife? To be his . . .”

            “Princess?”

            “Yes.”

            “Y/N, you have always been a princess. You have been my princess since the day you were born. Now you will become Thorin’s as well, though I believe he has thought of you as such for some time now.”

            “Daddy, I love you,” you hugged him tighter.

            “I love you too, my daughter,” he put his hands on your shoulders and held you at a distance, taking in your hair and make-up, before looking at your dress. “I’m afraid that hug has wrinkled you a bit.”

            “I don’t care. Wrinkles are worth a Daddy-hug.”

            “You sure you’re okay with the dress? I know we kind of lumped a lot of decisions on you that day.”

            Your white dress came to the floor. The sleeves were long and lacey, coming to points around the wrists, much like the popular elven fashion. The neckline was high, but that was mostly lace, giving way to solid material just below you collarbone, keeping your modesty. The lace of your veil matched the lace on your sleeves, which was comprised of a tiny geometric pattern - Thorin’s symbol. It marked you as his. You knew he would be wearing a belt, which contained your symbol intertwined with his, but it was too intricate of a pattern to be done in lace.

            “I like my dress, though to be honest, I would walk down the aisle in my robe if I had to, if it meant he was at the other end waiting for me,” you smiled and felt butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t wait until you were officially married.

            You felt your father’s arm wrap around you in a side hug as he handed you the bouquet. “You make a beautiful bride. Never forget that you will always be my little girl. Okay?”

            “Always, Daddy,” you hugged him again.

            “Excuse me? The music is about to start,” a dwarf popped his head around the corner and motioned you both forward. You were just out of sight, but you could see Thorin standing at the front, glancing from his father and grandfather, to the musicians, to the end of the aisle would start at and back, finally glancing at his feet. That’s when the music started and his head snapped up as you began walking. Your arm was looped through your father’s.

            You couldn’t exactly lock eyes with Thorin because of your veil, but you watch his face. There was a huge smile. He shifted so he was standing taller, you blushed remembering his lesson in the library and always having good posture in front of royals. That was when you remembered all the people looking at you who weren’t Thorin. You caught the eye Thranduil and Legolas, who politely nodded their heads as you passed. You didn’t have a long time to think about the people because you were standing in front of Thorin. Your father placed your hand in Thorin’s large rough one and lifted your veil, tucking it behind your head. He smiled at you before moving to his seat and the ceremony began.

 

            You couldn’t really keep track with what was happening, you were too excited, but you did hear the words “You may now kiss the bride,” and Thorin’s lips were against yours, gentle and soft and chaste - very appropriate. You heard clapping and few wolf whistles, Bofur probably.

            After you were announced as husband and wife, you walked back down the aisle, this time on your husband’s arm. He led you around the corner into the small room where you had waited with your father. There he embraced as you really wanted him to. His arms held you tight and his lips moved against yours with passion. You moved your hands to his braids and pulled on them gently. He broke the kiss and looked at you.

            "My beautiful wife, I love you. I love you and I’m going to spend every day proving it,” he smiled at you, before leaning in to whisper in your ear, “starting with tonight,” his voice deepened and you blushed and your body subconsciously moved closer to him. He chuckled. “But first, we must celebrate with family and friends!”

            “We can’t skip?”

            “Afraid not. It would be rude after they traveled all this way for us.”

            “I suppose you’re right - but I don’t like sharing you. Now that you’re mine, I want you all to myself,” you smiled, running a hand though his dark hair.

            “And tonight you shall have me, all of me, for as long as you want,” The intention was innocent, but you blushed at the double meaning of his words. “Come on, the sooner we get out there the sooner we can leave,” he took your hand and kissed your knuckled before leading you to the ballroom.

 

            “Presenting Prince Thorin and Princess Y/N!” You blushed as everyone applauded your entrance. Thorin smiled and nodded and you tried to do the same, but were cut off mid-action by Thorin leaning over to kiss you once more, this time a little less chastely than during the ceremony. The crowd whooped and hollered - Thrain had been right about the lack of ‘properness’ at receptions.

            The next hour was a whirlwind of congratulations and thank you’s and hand shaking and curtsying. When the meal was finally announced you were relieved, you were starving. Thorin and you got to sit at a table to yourselves and your immediate relatives. Thror and Thrain, Dis and Frerin, Dwalin and Balin and your father were all gushing - yes these dwarf-men were gushing about the wedding and the food, while you were just content to be sitting beside your husband, with food. 

            “Enjoying yourself, love?” Thorin whispered to you.

            “There is only one thing I could possibly enjoy more than this food right now, and I can’t do that in front of all our guests,” you whispered back, winking.

            "How about a dance!” Though it was posed as a question, Thror was telling you that it was time for the couple to have their first dance, whether you wanted to or not - good thing you wanted to.

            Thorin took your hand and led you to the dance flood, everyone had their eyes on you and you felt nervous.

            “Hey, it’s just you and me here dancing. Just us,” Thorin could read you like a book. He held you close and led you in a classic dance. You looked into his eyes as you danced, not saying a word. He twirled you around and as the song ended he surprised you by dipping you, strong arms daily supporting you. As he brought you back up his placed a soft kiss on your forehead and other couples began swarming the dance floor. You danced with your father while Thorin danced with Dis and while you danced with Frerin he spoke with your fathers.

            “What are they talking about?”

            “Probably how long you two have to stay before you can quietly escape,” Frerin shrugged. “Really, I have no idea, but that’s my best guess. Shall we go find out?” He offered as the song ended.

            “Let’s,” you said looping your arm through his and walking toward your husband, only to be cut off by Balin, who demanded a dance with his baby sister. When that song finished you turned and bumped into Dwalin.

            “You don’t think you’re getting a break before you dance with your favorite brother, do you?”

            “I just danced with my favorite,” you winked, knowing that this was the one day you would get away with teasing him back without major payback. You danced with Dwalin and finally got a break, sitting next to Thorin and sipping at your water. 

            “Dancing is hard work. I’m exhausted.”

            “Not too tired, I hope.”

            “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of energy for that,” you smiled. Thorin placed a hand on your cheek and you leaned in to the touch.

            “Excuse me, but may I have the next dance with the bride?” You opened your eyes, not remembering that you’d closed them, and saw Thranduil. You felt Thorin nudge you, encouraging you to go, and since you knew of no polite way to say ‘no’ to a king, you accepted.

            “I would be delighted,” you smiled, ignoring your sore feet and dry throat. Taking his hand you stood and moved back to the dance floor.

            The height difference made the hand placement a little off, but he managed with elven grace. “How does it feel to be married, if I may ask?”

            “I’ll tell you as soon as it sinks in that this isn’t all an elaborate dream,” you attempted to keep eye contact with the tall elf, but it was difficult at this angle and your neck was beginning to hurt.

            “I remember that feeling at my own wedding,” he said casually, but you knew his marriage was a topic he rarely discussed.

            “When did it start to feel real? I’m sorry, King Thranduil. You don’t have to answer that; that is none of my business,” you blushed, _why am I blushing so much today?_

            “It’s fine, Princess,” he didn’t seem to be mad at your question, but he was quiet for several painfully long moments. You racked your brain for something to talk about when he spoke. "The next morning, when I woke up next to the most beautiful elf I have ever laid eyes on. That is when I no longer feared I was dreaming,” the intimidating elf smiled at you. “Do not worry so much. You care for each other, the people like you, and you are a lovely dancer. Those three things make a royal marriage worth suffering the dignitaries and responsibilities.”

            “Can everyone tell I worry so much, or is it just something royals can do?”

            He laughed. “Just royals. We know the look. It seems like Legolas worried about this only decades ago, though it’s been centuries. How the time flies."

            “Wait, what does dancing have to do with anything?” The dance ended and you curtsied and he bowed, before offering his arm to escort you back to Thorin.

            He didn’t respond, just smiled knowingly and pulled your chair out for you. “Thank you for the dance, My Lady. Thorin, you are a lucky dwarf.”

            “I truly am, King Thranduil,” they exchanged head-nods and Thranduil began to walk away, pausing only for a moment.

            “Oh, Lady Y/N, you’ll find out soon that it has to do with _everything_ ,” Thranduil said, not quite suggestively, but not innocently either.

            “What was that about?”

            “He said that dancing was an important part of marriage, but wouldn’t explain why."

            Thorin was quiet for a minute before he whispered in your ear, beard scratching your cheek, “I think we’ve been here long enough. How about you? Or is there another royal you would like to dance with this evening?”

            “I think we’ve overstayed our welcome and should leave as quickly as possible.”

            Thorin stood and took you by the hand. Sending a head nod Frerin’s way so no one would go searching for you, he quietly and stealthy led you out of the laughter filled ballroom.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is on the longer side. I got started and couldn't really stop. I don't own anything. Comments/Feedback are always appreciated. I hope you enjoy; the final part should be up within a few days.


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